Scars
by chel567
Summary: Tris and Lincoln are both battling old scars, wounds that may never fully heal. Hopefully, they can overcome them together.
1. Chapter 1

**Ok guys, so don't hate me for this one. I don't know why I couldn't write this character as Tobias. It just kept throwing me off from the way that I envisioned him and had me writing things I didn't want to write because they felt more like Tobias. But I wanted to write Lincoln, and I love him, so I hope you do, too :)**

Lincoln sighed and looked around the room from the doorway. Tables of vendors of organizations lined the room in neat rows, and he watched the men and women, some with assistance, walk leisurely through them. He never turned down a chance to be with his brothers, but he wasn't sure what his purpose was here today. The email had read 'Family Support Event', and Lincoln didn't have one.

It had come from his therapist. A confident, no nonsense woman that Lincoln had spent plenty of time with over the past 4 years. She'd reach out to Lincoln often, asking him to speak at events or lead support groups. Even he had to admit that he'd come a long way in the past four years, but he'd done it all himself. He hadn't had a family, a loved one to rely on – aside from his brothers and sisters in the Corps – and he was worried he had no advice to offer to those that did.

"Excuse me," a voice said from behind him, and Lincoln spun, realizing he was taking up most of the doorway.

His eyes moved downward, landing on a man, probably just a couple years younger than him, in a motorized wheelchair. "Sorry, man," Lincoln said, putting his hand out. "Didn't realize I was taking up the entire doorway. Lincoln."

The man shook his hand. "Will," he said in response as he broke into a smile. "I know how it is – you gotta take the room in before you can enter."

Lincoln huffed. "That's for sure." It was a common trait that he'd shared with many veterans, especially those with severe injuries. Take in the room before you walk in, get a feel for the people, get an idea of the atmosphere. He'd used to be more vigilant that he was now, thanks to his work in therapy. But still, an easy setting could throw him off – like the one at this family event today.

"Did someone have to drag you here, too?" Will asked, glancing around Lincoln for some sign of a family.

"Oh…no. Well, it's usually my therapist's idea, but I come willingly. I'm leading a couple support groups." He doesn't want to admit to Will that although he's usually more agreeable, he did argue with her on this one. He didn't want to let down his groups if he couldn't offer family advice. He had no experience. But she'd insisted that he was in such a good place, mentally, that it would be enough.

"There aren't many events like this for family, for kids and stuff," Will said as he rolled out of the doorway upon hearing people behind him. Lincoln followed. "This is really important to my wife, and I get it. They need help too."

Lincoln took a deep breath. This was exactly why he didn't want to come. The spouses, the kids... he knew they were struggling with whatever their loved one was struggling with. And he didn't feel he was the person that could give them what they needed. What if he fucked up and said something completely off? What if he gave them shit advice? He couldn't quite deal with that.

"What groups are you leading?" Will asked. "Would you mind if I came?"

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Lincoln shook his head. "No, of course not. I'm not leading any until day 3." He pointed at the list of events until he found his name and time slots. "The next couple of days, I'll be sitting in on other groups though, filling in wherever they need help."

Will nodded as he eyed the schedule, but then his attention was drawn as he heard a laugh, and a little girl ran to him, launching herself onto his lap. Will shifted the paper to his left hand so he could catch her with his right. "Hey, sweetheart," he said as she squirmed in his lap. "This is my friend, Lincoln."

"Hi!" the small girl squeaked. "I'm Anna, and I'm 4!"

Lincoln smiled. He'd never spent a ton of time around kids until his adult life. When his friends had started their families, he'd loved playing the fun uncle. "You seem way too smart to be 4," he told her. He noticed the way she was unfazed by her dad's wheelchair, by the two missing limbs on his lower half.

"Strap her in!" a smiling woman called as she approached. "I can barely keep up with her around her and she's wearing me out!"

Will laughed at the woman before raising an eyebrow to Lincoln. "She thinks the wheelchair is an extra stroller sometimes," he said jokingly, and his wife slapped his shoulder when she got close enough.

"Christina," she said, sticking her hand towards him.

He shook it, returning the introduction. "Lincoln."

Will caught her up on their conversation and his idea to go to Lincoln's groups, which she nodded at supportively. "Are you staying here?" she asked, referencing the hotel where the event was held.

Lincoln nodded. "I live in the suburbs, but the commute for 5 days didn't sound appealing, so I've got a room."

Her eyes lit up. "Where in the suburbs? My friend is coming too, she lives in the suburbs!"

"You're not from Chicago, huh?" he asked. The suburbs was a term for a relatively big area, and he knew that Will and Christina probably didn't realize that. "There's a good chance we don't live near each other."

Surprisingly, she rattled off an Indiana town that was, in fact, just 30 minutes from where Lincoln lived. Surprisingly, he admitted there were close and Christina was in the middle of inviting him to dinner with them that night when he heard his name from across the room. His face broke into a smile at the sight of his buddies and he quickly turned back to Will and Christina.

"Actually, a group of my buddies and I reserved a big room down the block at a restaurant. We've got plenty of room." He unlocked his phone and slid it into Will's hands. "I'll text you the info. You're all welcome," he said gesturing to Anna and Christina.

He quickly said his goodbyes and moved towards his friends quickly. It had been a long time, too long. When they reached each other, the three guys took turns wrapping each other in hugs, giving hard back slaps. They said how they've missed each other, how it had been too long, and Lincoln felt that familiar tug in his chest as he looked at the three faced around him. After all, these were the guys that saved his life.

* * *

Tris flopped down on the old, worn vinyl train seat. They were still that disgusting color brown that they'd been since she was a kid, and she couldn't help but wonder how many people had sat in that seat over the years. She'd barely caught it on time, her life in constant chaos. She'd been just about to close the arts and crafts shop she owned when a last minute customer popped in to sign up for a class. She'd practically had to push the woman out the door and then hustle to the train station, but it was all worth it to see Will, Christina, and Anna.

It had been almost a year since they'd seen each other together, and the last visit was just a rushed dinner when she was on the East Coast for a convention. But knowing that they'd be here for a full week, she couldn't help but pass the store over to her assistant, Susan, and book two nights in a hotel to spend time with them. She'd head back home for a few days and then head back to the city of the weekend. Aside from seeing them, it was also a well-deserved break from non-stop pace her store had taken.

The train ride seemed to drag on and Tris seemed more tired the longer they rode. But when they finally pulled into the underground station, she seemed to get her second wind and excitedly hopped up, throwing her overnight bag over her shoulder and quickly making her way out of the station.

Christina had already texted her and let her know that they would still be busy for the next hour, but Tris didn't mind taking her time to check in and get in her room, organizing her things for the next couple days. Although she knew Will and Christina were going to have their days filled, she had hoped she could be there as support for them as well, maybe even giving them a break from Anna so they could do something together.

Just before 6 pm, she headed down towards the lobby to meet her friends. Christina had told her that they'd been invited to hang out with a guy Will had met and his friends. Even though they had planned to have dinner and catch up, Tris didn't mind. She knew how important it was to Christina that Will be surrounded by supporting and inspiring people, and this conference was an opportunity to help him and their family process and recover.

Sometimes, losing his legs didn't seem to phase Will. Initially, he had laughed and joked. But slowly, as the permanence set in and Will realized all of the barriers in front of him, he began to struggle. And, as he struggled, so had their marriage. And their family.

Christina had quit her job without hesitation to move to Bethesda. She sat at the hospital day in and day out, and Will had been grateful. He had been as loving as he could be. But eventually, Christina had needed to get out onto her own again and do something for herself. She'd started an online job, and although it allowed to her to be physically present, Will detested the way it took her attention from him. She knew it wasn't personal, she knew Will was struggling to deal with his injury, and he took it out on the person who loved him the most.

But Christina was strong, and she'd pushed Will to either do something about his feelings, or she'd leave. It was an ultimatum that was bold and may have pushed other men in the wrong direction. But Will had known his wife was serious, and the next day he found a therapist. And still, he went regularly.

Events like this, filled with other Marines or veterans, were good for Will. And honestly, Tris had witnessed how good they were Christina as well, even if she didn't participate directly. So she had no qualms with spending these few days exactly how they wanted to, even if it meant she wouldn't get a private dinner catching up with her friends.

It was hard to miss the large group of people in the lobby of the hotel. They were the typical loud Marines, but also wore visible scars of war, from Will in his wheelchair to other men missing limbs, wearing deep red scars, or using devices to help them function.

Tris scanned the group for her friends, and Christina's eyes lit up when they found each other. They rushed together, meeting in a tight hug, and she then took a turn with Will and Anna, happy to see the couple in a better place than they'd been three years ago.

"I hope you don't mind we changed dinner plans," Will said apologetically. "But we got an invite to hang with these guys and we couldn't say no."

Nodding understandably, Tris surveyed the group again and Will continued. "We just met most of them, but I'll make sure to introduce you."

"No problem," she said as she scooped up Anna, nuzzling her neck while the child giggled. "It's just great to see you guys."

She felt the presence of someone beside her before she heard him. "You good to go, Will?" he asked casually, and Will nodded.

"Lincoln, this is our friend Tris." His arm waved in her direction, so she turned to face Will's new friend.

"Nice to meet you," he said as he stuck his hand out cordially.

"Lincoln actually only lives a couple of town's over from you," Christina interjected.

Tris juggled the small child so she could accept his handshake. "Thanks for letting me tag along."

She noticed Lincoln swallowing deeply, and then he smiled. "Yeah, not a problem. We're just gonna walk a few blocks over, there's a pizza place with a back room we reserved. We've got a few hours here and then we can grab a drink, come back here, do whatever."

Christina smiled. "Sounds great," she said as she scooped Anna from Tris and planted her on Will's lap. "Stay with Daddy on the sidewalk," she instructed. "It's a busy street."

Their group stretched out on the sidewalk as they made their way to the restaurant, and with space from Lincoln, Tris took the time to drink him in. He was lean, his arms and shoulders and even his back displayed thick cuts of muscle under his t-shirt. His shorts hung on his hips in a tantalizing way, hugging them in just the right way. And Tris's eyes floated lower until they landed on the prosthetic leg that began at the right knee.

She wasn't bothered by it – not by anyone's imperfections or differences. Christina had told her that Lincoln seemed almost like the leader of the group, like the one the rest of the guys looked up to. Some of them seemed to be in better physical condition than Lincoln, some worse. But none of that mattered as much as the mental part, the emotional side of their injuries. And Lincoln gave the vibe that he was the strongest when it came to that.

"Close your mouth, Tris," Will muttered when they came to a stop at a corner, and she couldn't help but laugh. Ironically, Will was usually the one urging her to date, to get out there, to meet someone. Christina, on the other hand, was always interested in Tris's career, her business investments, her new endeavors. Tris thought that Christina was mostly living vicariously through her, her own career taking a back seat after Will's injuries. In fact, she was hoping to expand her business and wanted to offer a job to Christina, but wanted to run it by both of them at the same time.

She giggled and pretended to wipe drool from her mouth as Christina smacked her husband's shoulder to quiet him. "Don't embarrass her," she said in a whisper.

Tris laughed again, but didn't stop her eyes from wandering to Lincoln for the next few blocks until they reached the restaurant.

* * *

Dinner was easy and relaxed, the atmosphere just right for a large group. It reminded Tris of when she'd hang out with Christina and Will's friends in North Carolina. Marines are loud and boisterous, obnoxious and crude… but tonight they were tame, as if someone had sanded down their hard edges. Most had spouses, some had children, and a select few were there with siblings or parents. Tris, Christina, and Will had sat with a couple guys Will had met throughout the day, friends of Lincoln's. They'd served with him, but aside from that, no deep, dark stories were shared. Tris could tell that Will enjoyed that light hearted atmosphere, and he probably missed some of his buddies while he sat there reminiscing on his own good times. Deployment, while it appeared to end tragically for all of them, still held a lot of positive times for these guys.

And Tris understood it. She understood how you could go through something so painful and awful but still maintain that glimmer of fondness for an experience, and how surrounding yourself with people who understood made it easier to hold onto that fondness.

Will was still close friends with many of the guys he served with, the men he recovered with at Bethesda. But the military separates people, and most had moved back home and stayed enlisted and PCS orders were given. Technology helped, she knew, but events like this gave him, gave everyone, a chance to strengthen their bonds and keep up their friendships.

Anna was sitting and playing with a table of young kids, and Tris thought how nice it would be for her to have friends that had understood her situation as she got older. Friends who knew what it was like to have a parent who had been through the same things as well. She might not understand now, but she would eventually, and Tris hoped that this group of people would keep in contact with Will like they obviously did each other.

After dinner, people started to split off into different groups with different evening plans. Some planned to head to a bar, other's wanted to turn in. With Anna in tow, Christina suggested heading back to the hotel but stopping on the way for some beer or wine. Agreeing, Tris offered to let them take the child back while she make the beer run. A few other families with children thought Christina's idea was good, and soon she was typing a list on her phone of all the drinks requested.

"You're not going alone," Lincoln's rough voice said from beside her as they filed out of the restaurant.

"I think I can get it all," she said casually, although inside she was wondering how heavy four bottles of wine and two cases of beer would be.

"It's night time in Chicago," he said flatly. "You're not going alone."

"Are you coming with?" she asked bluntly, and he nodded while simultaneously motioning to his buddies that he'd go with Tris.

"Plus, we're the only ones without kids," he pointed out.

Tris glanced around and then nodded. He was right, after all. The rest of the couples were all toting around babies to toddlers to young kids, and she knew there was no point in any of them coming with. She pulled up the closest store with alcohol available, and they started the walk together.

Lincoln was friendly, but there was somewhat of a slight barrier that he held up, and Tris couldn't quite put her finger on it. He laughed at her jokes and then would quickly compose himself, as if he remembered there was something stopping him. He'd step closer to her when they passed other people on the sidewalk, but then instantly moved away again.

"So you speak at these events?" she asked, trying to tread lightly.

"I run some of the groups. Facilitate and lead mostly, but it's about them, not me," he shrugged. "My therapist suggested it a long time ago, and she thinks I'm good at it."

Tris sighed. "Therapist's always have those interesting ideas, don't they?"

Her statement caught his attention, and she noticed the way his eyes moved quickly towards her, and then back to looking in front of him. "Yeah," he laughed at the thought of Shauna. "But she was wrong in the end. It ended up being good for me."

"I'm sure that was part of her idea all along, but also…I think it's probably good for the men and women in the group. I mean, even just tonight, you inviting Will out, befriending him. It's really good for him, I can tell."

Lincoln nodded. "I'm happy to hear that." As they came upon the store, he pulled it open for Tris, letting her step in first. He followed her back to the alcohol, his eyes drinking in her frame, noticing the confidence in her walk. She was small, slender, and still, it felt like she was a large presence. It would have taken a moron not to notice the perfect curve of her hips, swell of her butt.

But Lincoln shook those thoughts from his head and started plucking bottles off the shelf as she listed the requests. She pulled out the two cases of beer they needed, and together they headed for the register.

"I got it," Lincoln said, stilling her hands as she lifted her small purse from her wrist. "The guys will pay me back."

She pulled the wine she and Christina had requested from the bundle. "I'll at least get ours," she offered.

Lincoln started to say something, then shut his mouth and turned back to the register. He waited silently for the cashier to finish ringing it up, handed over his card, and moved to the side so Tris could have her turn.

What he wanted to do was offer to pay for her wine. He wanted to tell her it was on him, no big deal. The urge to reach out and still her hands had been so natural he couldn't stop himself, but he knew the second he did it that the warmth of her skin under his was enough to do him in. He'd only felt it for a second, but he knew he enjoyed the soft skin of her hands way too much.

Grabbing their items, they headed out back onto the sidewalk to walk the last block to the hotel. Lincoln tried to keep it casual, and he couldn't tell how Tris was reading his behavior. He didn't want her to be uncomfortable, and he didn't want anyone to notice his discomfort, but he couldn't quite put a finger on how to calm his nerves right now.

They found the group in the lobby, sitting in a set of couches, the kids coloring at a coffee table. They placed their beverages on an end table, one of the women already opening a corkscrew to pop open a bottle of wine. Lincoln tossed beers to some of his buddies, and when he went to take a seat, he noticed there was only one left. Right next to Tris.

It made sense. Everyone else was coupled up, sitting with their spouse. Why wouldn't they be? And he and Tris had been the last to arrive. But he wasn't quite ready to deal with this, so he put his beer on a table and made his way to the bathroom.

He was standing at the urinal when Uriah walked in. He began to use the bathroom himself, but Lincoln knew there was a reason Uriah had followed him, and he wasn't sure he could talk just yet.

"She's a good looking girl, Linc."

"Not happenin'," he said without a glance at Uriah. Zipping up, he went to the sink.

"Why not?"

"There's no reason it should."

Uriah finished his business and moved to the sink, noticing with the way Lincoln stared hard in the mirror. "You think she's attractive?"

He was pushing, and Lincoln knew why. They'd made a pact a long time ago that they'd never lie to each other, him and his buddies. No matter what questions they asked, how hard they pushed, they'd never lie. It was when they were all struggling to crawl out from their dark places, and the perpetual answers of 'I'm good' were starting to sound so scripted Uriah couldn't take it anymore, and he'd pushed them all to make that promise.

"Of course I do. Have you fucking looked at her?"

"And Christina said you both live in the same area. So what's stopping you?"

Lincoln sighed. "I'm not ready for that."

"You're not ready for a gorgeous girl, who's more than friendly and sitting there alone on a couch right now?"

Scrubbing his face with his hands, he grumbled. "I'm not ready for that rejection again."

Sighing, Uriah knew this was the answer that Lincoln didn't want to admit, but had to. "If you don't face the possibility of rejection, you'll never get to face the possibility of happiness."

He felt it, that emptiness where his leg had been, the pain in his heart from the last time he'd opened to a woman who had very clearly made him feel less of a man. Despite coming so far in therapy in so many other ways, he just hadn't moved that far in this direction.

"You think Marlene likes that I lost my arm? I'm sure she doesn't. But has she ever fucking said that to me? No. Because there are people out there that love us no matter what the fuck happened to us, no matter what we look like, no matter how fucked up we are. And someone is gonna love you, Linc, but you gotta open the door for them to walk in, first."

Lincoln ran a hand down his face again, squeezing his eyes shut. It would be so easy, he knew, to walk out and sit with Tris and ask her about herself. He could get to know her, flirt with her, pour her some wine while she flashed that smile at him that tugged at his heart all night. It would be so easy… until it wouldn't be anymore.

"I'm just not ready," he grunted again, and turned and left the bathroom.

"Hey, I almost thought you fell in in there," Tris quipped as Lincoln plopped next to her on the couch.

"Is that a leg joke?" he said bluntly, knowing that it wasn't, but feeling thrown off by Uriah's bluntness in the bathroom.

He heard the conversations around him simmer down, his friends quietly waiting for Tris's response.

"No, but did you want it to be? Cause I bet I could come up with something if you wanted." She eyed him cautiously. It was confusing how he could be friendly but cold at the same time.

Lincoln paused for a second and then smiled. "Nah, I'll pass."

He settled in next to her, taking a swig of his beer and she leaned back against the couch. The conversation among his friends carried on, laughter filling the conversation. They discussed the next day, which sessions they would attend, where the kids were going to go. They had each picked out the activities that were the best for them, and someone brought up where they should have dinner the following night as well. Ideas were tossed around and then the conversation grew to other things they should do while in the city. Lincoln had no set schedule or plans, so he zoned out on the conversation and tapped Tris's knee to get her attention.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, "for snapping at you."

She smiled at him, her eyes gentle. "I forgive you."

"What are you going to do while your friends are tied up tomorrow?" he asked, nodding his head toward Christina and Will.

She shrugged. "I was going to see if Christina needed any help. I could go with her or watch Anna. But if not, I've got a whole day with no obligations and I haven't had a day like that in forever, so I'm not going complain."

Lincoln thought back to the words Uriah had said to him in the bathroom. You gotta open the door for them to walk in, first. She was attractive in a natural way, and it wasn't just physical. The way she hadn't backed down when he'd been shitty to her, the way she looked at him with her eyes wide open when he spoke to her.

"Would you mind putting one thing on that schedule, and have breakfast with me?" he asked shyly.

Tris smiled, her gray eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'd love to, Lincoln."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hope everyone has a great Christmas/holiday :)**

Tris was leaning against a wall in the lobby when Lincoln saw her. Jeans and casual t-shirt hung off her body in just the right way, her hair swept back into a messy ponytail at the base of her neck.

"Good morning," she said as he approached, and he noticed her fresh face and natural beauty.

"Mornin'," he replied, slowing as he approached her. "So, I was thinking we could go to this little place just around the corner. It won't be as busy as this place." He jerked his thumb towards the hotel's restaurant.

Tris tossed her hands up. "Wherever is fine with me. Lead the way."

They fell in step together, making their way out of the hotel and down the sidewalk of the city streets. It was busy, and it was hard to have a conversation as they both bobbed and weaved through the throngs of people. Eventually, Lincoln turned down the side street and the crowd thinned.

"Sleep well?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "Well enough. I always sleep best in my own bed."

He grunted. He knew that feeling all too well. "Me too. I hate waking up in the middle of the night, forgetting where I am." Nightmares plagued most of his friends, but Lincoln struggled with the waking. He was a terrible sleeper, waking multiple times during the night for any number or reasons. Sometimes he'd wake up, especially when in a new place, and forget where he was. It reminded him of waking up in Germany, in a strange hospital, with strange people, and the panic that filled him when he realized he had no idea where he was. Sometimes, still, he'd flash back to that and his body would again be filled with that same panic, that urgency to figure out what wrong.

Tris nodded and he could see her nervous swallow. "I forgot to bring my melatonin. That definitely didn't help."

Lincoln slowed as he reached the restaurant door and opened it for Tris. She stepped in in front of him, addressed the hostess, and quickly they were seated at a table near the window. It was then, once they sat down, that Lincoln realized he had no idea what to say next.

"So what do you do for work?" Tris asked. She already knew he lived in Westville, the small town just thirty minutes from her.

He was grateful she was taking the lead. "I work for an engineering company. But I work in the marketing and sales department, not the actual engineering portion."

"Do you like it?" she asked, her attention unwavering.

Sighing, Lincoln couldn't help but shrug. "I do… but not as much as I liked the Marine Corps."

She paused before answering. "They sound like opposite sides of the spectrum. Marines are all about being rough and hard, and in marketing you almost have to be sly and smooth."

He laughed at the analogy. "I've never thought of it that way. I think I probably fit in the rough and hard category first."

"You seem like it," she murmured, her eyes absently taking him in as if he wasn't right in front of her.

Nervously, he grabbed his menu and started perusing, and they were both ready when the server came just a few minutes later.

"Will said you own your own business?" he asked her.

She nodded as she took a testing sip of her coffee, then pulled back when it was still too hot. "I do. I own an arts and crafts store. It sounds silly, but I promise it's more than that."

"It's not silly," he said quickly, "but what do you mean it's more than that?"

"Well, we sell supplies and stuff, but not like a big chain craft store. We do a bunch of different classes. You know how many women out there don't know how to use a power saw? There's such a gigantic world of art out there and people just don't know how, or are too afraid, to explore it."

"But it sounds like you aren't?" He couldn't help but be curious about it, her ability to take what for most people is a hobby and turn it into a successful business.

"I've always gotten a huge sense of satisfaction out of creating something," she shyly admitted. "It has always helped me feel a little bit more positive, even in dark times. I like to help other people feel that too."

The way she nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders pulled at Lincoln's heart. In a world where he was surrounded by so many people doing so many things for themselves, here was someone who knew what it meant to help other people feel better. It was that same feeling that drove him, every day.

"I'm not saying I'm an art therapist or anything," she quickly added, feeling the need to eat up the silence between them. "But I do think it's healing, and a lot of times, it's a great way to preserve memories. A couple years ago I started working with therapists and charities to get their clients in. Even though it's my business and my job…I also like to think of it as a safe space for people. They can come in and create things that maybe are helping them deal with something…or maybe they just want to create things and not be judged." She shrugged. "I hope they all feel the way that I think they do."

His voice was soft when he finally found it again. "I think that's incredible," he said. He sat there, unable to tear his eyes away from her. He watched the nerves of her admission fade away as they sat silently, and although he knew he should say something to break the awkwardness, he couldn't find the words.

It was the waitress who finally broke the spell, expertly sliding their plates in front of them and refilling their coffees before making her way to the next table.

Tris's admission, her open honesty with Lincoln helped him to drop his guard. They continued breakfast, the conversation flowing easier after that. He asked Tris if he could come see her shop sometime after they both returned home. The question surprised both of them, as Lincoln realized that he had hoped to keep seeing her after these few days were up, back in their own worlds. And Tris had eagerly agreed, telling him that he was welcome any time.

He glanced at his phone to check the time as they were finishing up, surprised to see that it was almost time to head back to the hotel. The waitress dropped the check, and Lincoln grabbed it immediately, but Tris reached into her small purse.

"I can get my half," she offered.

Lincoln raised his head, his eyebrows furrowed. "Do I really give off the vibe of a guy who takes a girl on a date and expects her to pay for herself?"

Tris's eyes sparkled at him. "Oh, this was a date?" she asked playfully.

Panic almost set it, Lincoln nervous he'd misread the entire situation. But then he paused and looked at the playful, mischievous look Tris had on her face and relaxed.

"If you have to ask, then I guess not. Fork over your half," he returned. He slipped his cash and bill to the waitress, letting her know they didn't need change while Tris tossed her head back and laughed at his comeback.

"That was a much better response than you had to my joke last night."

He sighed as they stood from the table and made their way to the door. "Yeah, I'm still sorry about that."

"It's ok," she said as she put a hand on his arm to stop him from apologizing again. "I get it."

Lincoln gave her a grateful smile and slyly slipped his hand into hers as they walked down the street. The feel of her soft skin against his, the way she let her fingers rest against his…it had Lincoln's entire body buzzing in a way that he hadn't felt in so long. She was just holding his fucking hand and he was almost short of breath. He wasn't aware how much he had been missing until now.

They made it back to the hotel, Lincoln dropping her hand to hold the door open for her as they entered. "So, you're just gonna relax for the morning, right?" he asked as they waited for the elevators.

"Yeah," she shrugged. "I can't tell you the last time I laid in bed and watched dumb TV. It'll be a nice way to spend a couple hours."

He shoved his hands in his pockets as they stepped on. "Well, you should come out for dinner tonight, too. I mean, you were included when we invited Will and Christina, but I want you to know that I would like it if you came."

"Thanks," she said, smiling up at him. "I'm sure we will."

They stepped off at the same floor, Lincoln following her to her own door. "It was nice of you to walk me to my room," she said she slowed in front of her door.

Suddenly Lincoln had the strong desire for her to invite him in, to push her up against the wall and crush his mouth against hers, tearing out that low ponytail so he could wind his fingers through her hair.

"Thanks for having breakfast with me," he settled on instead, as she leaned her back against the door frame, as if she could read his thoughts.

"I enjoyed it," she said softly, her eyes never leaving his.

Lincoln was frozen. He was too nervous to step towards her, he was too afraid she'd reject him, or that he'd read her signals wrong, that she wasn't feeling the same thing he was. But it only took a moment of silence, and then Tris reached for his hand, pulling him in towards her, inviting him to get closer.

He stepped in, his free hand finding hers to link their fingers, and was just beginning to lean in when the door next to hers swung open.

Startled, they both straightened and Lincoln inched back, not wanting to give their intimate moment away to a stranger in the hallway. He rubbed his jaw, his confidence shattered.

"Alright, well, I'll see you tonight then, I hope."

She sighed, almost showing a bit of disappointment. "Yeah, I hope so, too."

* * *

Christina charged into Tris's room hastily, Anna on her hip. "You had breakfast with Lincoln?!"

Turning her head away from the TV, Tris exhaled. "Yeah." After her almost-kiss, she'd flopped down on her bed, buried herself under the covers, and watched mindless HGTV. She'd felt so much while she was with Lincoln, and could barely keep her breath steady when she'd pulled him in and he had accepted. He'd had her heart racing just from looking at her, and then he'd gone and help her hand. She was done for.

"Were you going to tell me?!" Christina put Anna onto the bed and then threw her hands up.

Tris sighed again. "Yeah, of course I was. I just didn't want to get in the way of him and Will building a friendship. If it was nothing, then no one would have to know."

"That doesn't matter to us, Tris." She sat down on the bed, facing her friend. "You know that."

Restlessly, Anna rolled around on the bed. Tris flipped the channel to something more kid appropriate and pushed herself up to sit. "I know. I was going to tell you today. But what you're here for is more important."

Christina nodded, her short hair moving around her face. "Yes, but you're important, too."

Squeezing her friend's hand, Tris nodded as well. "Thanks. So how'd you find out?"

"Will overheard Lincoln talking about it with Uriah. I think it's kind of a big deal for Lincoln to do that, from what the way they were talking. Will said that Uriah was really proud of him."

Tris reflected on the way Lincoln acted. He carried himself like he didn't have a care in the world, like nothing could knock him off his feet. It had to be hard to do that after losing a leg, she thought. But she could see hints of uncertainty in his eyes, pieces of nervousness.

"We didn't get that personal."

"Well…are you going to tell me how personal you did get?!" Christina asked, dipping her head to meet her friend's eyes. "I mean…it was a date right?"

Tris couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. "Yeah, a casual date." The morning flashed through her mind. "We went to this place close by…and it was…nice. He's a genuine person. He opened the door and he paid and he did all the gentlemanly stuff. But he asked me about myself, my business, and he showed genuine interest. Not just like, 'Oh…another chick who wants to chop up wood and slap paint on it.'" Tris rolled her eyes as she quoted the last guy she'd gone out with.

"I know you've been having doubts about still trying to meet someone," Christina said, "but I think this could be really good for you. And for Lincoln."

"Don't get my hopes up. You know how fast they can crash and burn."

"And you know how to pick them!" Christina playfully teased her friend. "I know it's slim pickin's out there and you've had some rough go arounds with men. And I know I don't really know Lincoln. But just seeing the way his friends gravitate towards him, the way they talk to him and about him, it makes me think he's not going to be like the rest of the guys you've met."

Tris smiled, remembering the way Lincoln's hand had felt as it curled around hers. Despite her attempts to be cautious, she couldn't help but feel a little hopeful about Lincoln. It was clear he'd been through a lot, and she thought maybe someone who'd been through as much – or worse – as she had would be a little more careful with her heart.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see. He did say he wants to come see the store sometime," she added.

"That's good! It means he's already thinking ahead." Christina flopped down next to Tris on the bed. "But spill the good details. Did he kiss you?"

Sighing, Tris recalled for the millionth time the way she had tugged at Lincoln's hand and he had willingly stepped forward. He seemed on board, but that he needed a little encouragement. She'd been aching to kiss him, to feel his beard brush against her skin as their lips met, since the night she'd met him. And they were so close, until the damn door opened beside them.

"No, we were interrupted. But I think he was going to."

Christina squealed. "I bet he's a good kisser."

"Down, girl," she jokingly warned her friend. "You're married."

"I know," Christina said, rolling her eyes. "But it doesn't mean I can't get excited for you! Plus, we haven't been able to swap s-e-x talk in forever."

Christina wasn't lying, it had been a while. But being young and carefree had only been fun for so long. As Tris grew older, she became more selective on her men and found herself coming up empty way too often.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Tris warned, but inside she was already thinking of the way it would feel to have Lincoln's strong hands running down her body. How his broad shoulders would feel under her palms, his thick brown hair through her fingers.

"How do you think it works? You know, he's missing half a leg, there could be issues." Christina, always blunt, would never shy away from pointing out the obvious.

"Well how does it work with no legs?" Tris shot back, slightly bothered by Christina bringing it up. It didn't bother her that Lincoln had a prosthetic, not in the slightest. And Christina of all people should know how touchy of a subject that could be for a man. Will had struggled for a long time, and Tris knew it was still an issue from time to time.

"At this point it is working just fiiiine," she draws out for emphasis. "It's been long enough that we've been able to work on it…medically and…otherwise, you know?"

Softening, Tris nods. "Yeah, I know." Will and Christina had struggled together in so many ways – way more than just sexual – after Will's injury. It was probably the first time she'd seen her friend vulnerable and doubting herself in so many ways. But she'd also seen how hard the two of them worked to make it work, to overcome the hurdles. And Tris thought that now they looked happier than they ever had.

It had opened Tris's eyes in a way. It made her realize that good relationships took work, they couldn't survive on feelings alone. A combination of those fiery feelings plus the daily commitment to better yourself with someone else was what made relationships – and marriages – survive. She just didn't know if she'd ever meet someone willing to do the work like her friends had.

* * *

For the first time in a long time, Lincoln sat in a support group and saw it from a new angle. In a circle, just like they looked like on TV, sat a group of veterans, mostly men and a few females, talking about their families. Some were there to talk about their parents, who were living with them to help with their care until they were further along. Many had significant others. All were in different stages of healing.

"Well," Will began with a deep breath when it was his turn. "I'm here because I need to better support my wife, I guess. As a partner, as a husband, as a father." His eyes glanced up at everyone listening attentively.

"I think we've gotten over a lot of hurdles in the past few years. When I first got injured I was angry a lot, I was mean. And Christina was…she was everything she could possibly be for me. I'm lucky she never left me, even though sometimes I deserved it."

Even the thought of Christina leaving him causes a flash of panic in his eyes and a hitch in his voice. Will rubs his barely there facial hair. "I think I just want to make sure that I'm the best man I can be for her, and for my daughter. I don't want to half ass anything in life, but especially being their guy…I can always do better, right?" He shrugs with his soft laugh. "Anyways, thanks for letter me be here, and letting me share."

The room is full of murmurs, thanks, and head nods. Person after person, story after story, they make their way around the circle, and slowly they make their way to Lincoln.

"Well," he starts with a shrug, "My therapist thought it would be a good idea for me to come here, even though it's an event centered on families. I come to a lot of these events and lead groups on healing and positivity and moving forward. I enjoy surrounding myself with my brothers and sisters and collectively working on improving ourselves. But I don't really have a family, so I've got nothing to offer here, really."

"Do you have anyone?" the group leader questions. "Anyone who helped you through recovery?"

Lincoln runs his hand over the back of his head. "My parents died right after I enlisted. So no, no one helped me." He pauses for a moment debating on adding, "I had a girlfriend before that deployment, but we weren't real serious. I told her she didn't have to wait while I was away. And she didn't."

It hadn't hurt Lincoln to say good bye to Sarah before his final deployment. She was in college, leading a life of rigorous studying and followed by a wild social life. It wasn't fair of him to ask her to put her future on hold when they didn't even love each other. So they'd said their goodbyes, and she'd written him a few emails and sent a few packages, but they were all friendly in nature.

"And anyone since?"

Taking a deep breath, Lincoln ponders the question. He's shared his experiences with women with his therapist, where honesty is the only way to move forward. But glancing at the men around him, he's not sure that they are ready to hear about some of the rejection and heartbreaking moments he's dealt with since his injury. So he pushes it aside and gives a half-truth.

"I think when I was still healing, before I was accepting my future," he motions to his leg, "I looked for comfort in the wrong places. I would meet women, and I thought that if one of them would just accept me, I could accept myself. But that wasn't the right place to look for that acceptance. Not some stranger in a bar or a woman on a dating app. It had to come from me, first." He keeps his eyes away from Will, not wanting to feel like he's putting his new friend in an uncomfortable position. "That's when I started working on myself. I found my therapist, and I knew I had to have the right mindset myself before I could expect anyone else to."

"I think your perspective is very helpful here, Lincoln," the group leader says. "For most of you, you have many roles in your life – provider, spouse, parent. But what Lincoln is saying is that you can't do any of those roles to your best ability if you aren't making your own mental health a priority, first. And once you start getting in the best mindset about yourself and your situation, whatever it is, you'll find yourself becoming better in your other roles for your family and loved ones."

"Some of you may already be there," Lincoln added. "You might already have moved through the stages of acceptance. That's what we do – we adapt and overcome. But what I've had to remember is that it's an ongoing process. You don't get to that stage of acceptance and stay there indefinitely. You have to keep working at it."

The group leader nods at Lincoln, appreciating his added advice. "Right. As the people come in and out of our lives, and the ones in our lives grow, we will need to grow with them." It dawns on Lincoln that perhaps his therapist had a reason for making him attend this after all.

* * *

"Hey," Will says as he rolls up next to Lincoln as he exits the doorway to the room their group had occupied.

"Hey," Lincoln returned. "How'd that go for you?" He nods his head back to the room in reference to the group.

Will nodded and took a deep breath. "Made me think a lot, that's for sure. I appreciate what you said, you know. It made me realize that sometimes I feel like I've got to be there for Christina and Anna, even if I'm in the middle of a hating-my-life episode or dealing with some physical pain. I felt selfish taking care of myself before them. But I know what you said is right. I see how it's helped you, you know."

"It's different," Lincoln defends. "I didn't have anyone wanting me around the way your family does. It's got to be a lot more challenging."

"It is hard," Will admits. "But still. I wish I would have listened to those words early on. And hey…it looks like you might have someone wanting you around now." He peers up at Lincoln cautiously, like he's not sure what his new friend is going to say or how he'll react.

Lincoln steps aside to a chair in the hallway they've strolled down and collapses back. "Tris?"

Will can't help but let out a chuckle. "Yeah. Look, I'm not here to get all caveman or defensive. Tris is a smart woman, she'll make her own decisions. I just wanted to let you know that whatever you share in there-" he points back to the room "or whatever you share with me in confidence is going to stay between us. I kind of thought you were holding back in there. I don't want that to be the reason."

Shaking his head, Lincoln assured his friend. "I appreciate you respecting my privacy, but I wasn't worried about that at all, man. Plus," a smile creeps across his face. "I'm sure a guy with one leg could beat up a guy with no legs."

Will lets out a deep laugh. "If you'd said that three years ago, I'd probably launch myself out of this thing at you to show you were wrong. But now, I think that's fucking hilarious."

Chuckling lightly, Lincoln smacks his friend on the shoulder. "That's called progress."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey friends! Hope everyone is well, healthy, and safe. I only did a quick edit and spell check, so don't hate if there are tons of errors. Just wanted to keep moving forward with the story!**

It was only shortly after their conversation that Will had not so slyly let it slip that Tris had no lunch plans because he was going to meet Christina for a sponsored family lunch event. So, catching the hints, Lincoln grabbed two take out boxes from the lunch buffet and raced up to Tris's room hoping she didn't leave or have plans. He'd never managed to get her phone number and he didn't feel right getting it from Will or Christina, so she'd hopefully be ok with his impromptu visit.

He was nearly out of breath from his power walk to get to her room, knocking and resting one arm on the doorframe, his other hand balancing the take out boxes as he waits. And when Tris opened the door, he's overwhelmed with the sight of her. She's fresh out of the shower, her hair hanging in waves down to her shoulders. Her face is bright and clean, and the way her lose t-shirt hangs on her makes Lincoln wonder how she'd look in one of his shirts…with nothing underneath. Her lips part at the surprise of Lincoln's presence and then break into a wide grin.

"Hey, handsome," she says as she crossed her arms and leans against the same side of the doorway as him. "What brings you up here?"

The breath he was trying to catch escapes him and he struggles to swallow down some oxygen. "I thought you might want some lunch."

"Yeah? You're a smart man; I'd love some lunch." She moves backwards to make room for Lincoln to enter and he deposits the containers onto the small table in the room.

He suddenly becomes increasingly nervous that Tris won't like the options he'd selected. After all, he'd rushed through the line and dumped a little bit of everything into the boxes. "I hope you're ok with what I grabbed," he verbally fumbles.

Smiling as she fetches two bottles of water from the fridge, she reassures him. "I'm so hungry, I won't say no to anything right now." She sits down and Lincoln falls into the chair across from her. "Thanks for bringing this."

Relaxing, he lets a relieved smile out. "I was hoping you hadn't left or made other plans."

She shakes her head and grabs a fork, looking at the options in the containers. "Well, Christina was here, but she left to go meet Will for lunch. And honestly, I was kind of wishing I had your phone number to see what you were up to." Smiling up at him, Lincoln can tell she's a little shy about her confession.

Her slight hesitation puts him even more at ease. "I thought about that too, but I didn't want to get it from a friend.

Tris nods in agreement. "I appreciate that." Swiftly, she unlocks her phone with the thumb pad and hands it over to him.

After saving his number he calls himself, noticing the way Tris is sampling each food in the boxes. "Did I do good?" he asks as he observes her.

She smiles. "With the food? Yes, definitely. Everything is delicious."

"Looks like we're off to a good start," he says hopefully as he digs his own fork into the mac and cheese after her.

Tris smiles, secretly agreeing. It was respectful of Lincoln to not ask another person for her number, but also bold and thoughtful of him to show up with lunch, hoping she'd be free and agreeing to eat with him. She appreciated all of those traits and hadn't seen enough of them recently, that's for sure.

Unable to help herself, she turns the conversation to him, asking how the sessions went in the morning.

Lincoln studies the green bean his pierced with his fork for a minute. "They're different," he finally says. "I've never attended a family centered event before. I'm not used to seeing people here with their spouses or their parents."

"Do you like it?" she boldly asks.

"I like that you're here," he replies with a smug smile.

"Well, thank you," she says as her eyes dance. "I like that I'm here, too. But, you didn't answer the question."

Chuckling at her redirection, he scoops up a forkful of mashed potatoes before answering. "It's hard to explain." When she doesn't respond, Lincoln realizes she's waiting for him to elaborate. He tosses his fork onto the table and puts his hands up like walls. "When you're recovering, your safe space is about this small, right? At least for me. I wasn't open with many people. But then, my space grew because I saw a therapist, I started talking with the guys more. Even when I first came to a veteran's event, I still felt like I was stepping way out of my box, even though the people around me were dealing with the same shit. But eventually, I learned to be comfortable surrounded by them, even in large groups. And I learned how to help them open up, how to expand their safe space. But this is like…pushing my safe space much wider."

"Isn't that eventually your goal? To feel comfortable and confident everywhere?"

He shrugs. "In a way. I want to feel that way… but it doesn't mean I want to open up and share my private feelings with every person I come across. There are things that…they're still hard to talk about, think about. Or things I don't want to admit to just anyone." He thinks about his confession to Uriah in the bathroom before he'd asked Tris to breakfast and how he hadn't wanted to share his issues with female rejection to the group today.

"That's understandable. Sharing with a total stranger who's been through the same thing as you isn't the same thing as sharing with that stranger's mom." She puts it so simply, Lincoln wanders why it took him so much longer to explain it.

"Yeah…pretty much sums it up," he laughs.

"Well, how'd the group go today?" she asks, then shakes her head. "Sorry if I'm being nosy."

He shakes his head in assurance she's not. "It went well, but it wasn't families. So, you know…small safe space," he says as he puts his hands back up to mimic their initial small walls.

Tris laughs, and even though Lincoln sees the smile across her face, he can also read the care she's taking with this conversation in her eyes. She's thoughtful before she responds, not making rash assumptions or using the wrong words.

"So who _is_ your safe space? Uriah and your friends, and obviously your therapist. Anyone else?" Her fork is still as she looks at him, awaiting a response. It's an intimate question, and one he hates to answer.

"My parents died right after I enlisted. In a car accident. So the Marine Corps became my family. These guys are my brothers." Lincoln tries not to think too deeply about his parents. They'd been a tight family, and his mom had been heartbroken when he'd left for boot camp. It was his safety she was worried about after he enlisted, but it should have been the other way around. He'd never seen them again after his boot camp graduation.

Tris's hand moves across the table to cover his, her fingers lightly rubbing on his knuckles. "I'm really sorry, Lincoln."

It had been a long time since anyone had consoled him over his parents' deaths. He mostly heard condolences or sympathy over his combat wounds in the recent years, but his therapist had been the one to uncover and work through his feelings about his parents.

"What about you? Who do you have?" he asks, his voice soft as he turns his hand over capture her fingers.

Tris shifts in her chair, and he immediately senses her nerves and discomfort. "It's just me," she says with a sad smile. "It has been for a long time."

"Family?"

"My mom and my stepdad weren't great," she vaguely answers. "I left town right after high school graduation and haven't seen them since."

Lincoln intertwines his fingers with hers. "So, Christina and Will? They're who you've got?"

She nods, her face lifting up a bit. "Yeah, they're great. Unfortunately not close, but I have some good friends in this area, too."

They're both quiet for a moment, the lunch leftovers going cold between them.

"You're coming to dinner with us tonight, right?" Lincoln asks. "I talked to Will about it earlier."

He thanks her as he makes his way to the door, Tris following behind him. "I had a good time, again," she says shyly, and Lincoln notices that even though she speaks her mind there's still a hint of fear or vulnerability behind her words.

"I did, too," he says as he takes a step toward her, his hand finding its way onto her hip. If Tris can be bold enough to broach conversations and tell her how she's feeling, he can sure find some fucking guts to kiss her. "Yeah, I'd love to. What's the plan?"

Lincoln's face breaks into a huge smile, changing the mood. "Shake Shack," he grins.

Tris throws her head back and laughs. "I _love_ Shake Shack!"

"Me too!" He can't fake his excitement over taking his friends to one of his favorite restaurants in the city and listening to Tris's agreement of the restaurant.

"Well, it should be a good time then." Their eyes meet, and they sit in a comfortable, happy silence until Lincoln's phone beeps with a text from Zeke, another friend of his.

Reluctantly, he reads the text and realizes he has to head down to go to a group with Zeke. "Thank you for having lunch with me," he says as he stands, beginning to clean up his leftovers off the small table.

Tris waves him off. "Don't worry about it. I appreciate that you took the time to pick up and bring it up here, so I'll take care of clean up."

Accepting his touch, she brings her hands up towards him, resting one on his forearm and the other on his side. She looks up at him, her grey eyes waiting to see what he'll do with their bodies so close together and no one nearby to interrupt them.

Lincoln swallows his nerves, leans in, and with only a slight hesitation, his lips meet Tris's in a gentle, soft way. Tris almost seems surprised for a moment, but then she reciprocates. It's quick and sweet, but Lincoln can't wipe the smile off his face as he stands up, his hand giving her hip a light squeeze.

"I'll see you again tonight," he says, as he heads out the door.

* * *

"So, you're leaving tomorrow?" Lincoln asks as he slips a fresh drink in front of Tris and takes the seat next to her.

Smiling up at him, she moves her empty glass towards the middle of the table. "Thanks," she says as she takes a sip from the fresh one. She'd noticed all night how attentive Lincoln was to small details, but also how he was constantly observing their surroundings. They'd enter a room and she'd watch his eyes dart around all the walls, locking in on doors and exits. He'd glance at every person that approached them, even if just in passing.

"I'm not sure what time. I need to touch base with the employee I left in charge and see if she needs me back for anything." She didn't want to invite herself to dinner, but she was hoping that Susan was doing well enough on her own for Tris to stay for dinner again, and then hop on the train afterwards.

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then… I'll see what Will and Christina are doing for dinner, I guess." She tilted her head up to him, waiting for his response.

There were so many things he wanted to say at that moment. He thought about tracing a finger down her exposed neck, because ever since their kiss earlier, he'd thought of little except doing it again. He'd wondered how it would feel to be in this booth and feel comfortable enough to drape his arm across her lap or tuck her under his arm. The comfort was growing between them, but Lincoln couldn't quite push all of his doubts and insecurities out of his mind to make him take that leap, yet.

"I thought maybe we could get breakfast or lunch again?" he asks hopefully.

The instant smile that crossed her face almost made Lincoln think that she was just as nervous as he was, at times. "That sounds great," she says softly. "Either, or both."

The inner clench in his chest relaxes, and he lets out a breath he didn't know was tight inside his chest.

"Hey Linc!" Zeke yells from across the room, waving him over. "Get in on this game with us!" There were two men over at the shuffle board table with Zeke, indicating they were one man short.

Lincoln nods his head and plants a quick kiss on Tris's cheek. "We'll make plans later."

Tris tries to hide the satisfied smile as she watches Lincoln walk away from her, but she isn't surprised when Will breaks his conversation with Christina to pull her attention away from Lincoln's retreating form.

"A public kiss, huh?" Will poses, teasing Tris.

She shrugs shyly. "I was surprised also," she admits.

"I heard he kissed you earlier. I think you're breaking your track record of deadbeats here."

Rolling her eyes, she brushes him off. "I've known him for two days."

"And he's done more gentlemanly things for you in those two days than any other douche you've dated."

Tris sighs. It hadn't been her plan to go through life dating losers. She'd seemed to be just fine with it for a few years during college and a bit after. It wasn't until her therapist had helped her pick apart the reasons that she saw the problem with it and slowly began to undo her bad habits.

"I just want you to realize what you've got here," Will said, interrupting her reflection. "I know I just met him too, but I see a different side of him. I see the more vulnerable, open side."

"I don't want to know what he says in groups," she says quickly, not wanting to open that can of worms or put Will in the middle.

"And I'm not telling you. I've talked to the guys… and Lincoln is… they look up to him. They think of him as their leader, in a way. He's their role model, keeps them all together."

She feels the tug at her heart and looks over at Lincoln as he laughs with Zeke as they wait for the other team to take their turn. "I think that's great. I like that about him."

"Yeah, but can you open your heart up to someone like that?"

"I hope I can. I want to."

Will gives her a hopeful smile. "You've gotta figure out how, Tris. Cause this thing with Linc could be really great for you."

Lincoln was walking on a slippery slope, and he knew it. His attraction toward Tris, the natural draw he felt towards her was something foreign. He hadn't felt that way towards a woman in…a long time. Remaining single and alone had been easy and safe, and for the past few years Lincoln convinced himself he was happy enough. Sure, there'd been times he'd looked at his friends or watched a movie and felt that maybe he wanted more. But then he'd remember the rejected he'd felt, how hard it had been to overcome that, and he didn't think he could open up again.

And despite that he'd only known Tris a few days, she wasn't foreign to his world. Not completely. She never flinched at anyone and seamlessly interacted with Will despite his use of a wheelchair. Lincoln noticed how Tris could recognize the need for an accommodation for Will-and take care of it-so seamlessly you would think she did it every day. She wasn't hiding away from his brothers, flinching at their movements or words. Lincoln thought that already gave them a head start, as he wouldn't have to explain all of that.

His buddies teased him about the way he'd casually kissed Tris on the cheek. To be fair, he'd been just as surprised that he'd done it. But under their teasing he'd known that they were congratulating him, letting him know that they were proud of his attempt.

After dinner and a couple of drinks, they collectively made their way back to the hotel, settling into the lobby for a while. Anna curled up on Tris's lap, letting out a big yawn as Tris smoothed back he hair. Tris adored the girl and wished she had time with her more frequently, but she was grateful that despite their distance they were able to maintain a positive relationship. Tris wasn't very kid experienced, but she found herself pulling all the things she'd wished she'd had in her childhood and giving that to Anna.

The kids only lasted a bit longer, and as all the adults turned in, Tris and Lincoln found their way to the elevator together. He debated asking her to stay up longer, but the wall slipped back up in front of his emotions, and he knew he needed to slow it down, to guard himself a little bit more.

It didn't stop him from giving her a lingering kiss at her door, his hands settling on her hips as he pulled her against him. The sigh that slipped out of her gave him goosebumps, restarted his heart a little in the way she had seemed to do lately. In a way, he was grateful that she was leaving for a few days so he could process and decompress. But he also started letting his mind wander to what it would be like when they both returned home.

The next morning, Tris surprises Lincoln with a knock on his door and coffee and bagels in hand. He answers the door, sweats hanging low on his hips and a t-shirt hanging loosely across his chest. He rubs his eyes and for a moment Tris is worried she woke him, but he waves her concern off.

"I was just being lazy," he admits as he tosses his head in the direction of his messy bed.

She blushes, secretly thinking about how sexy he'd probably looked lying in that bed, shirt off, and muscles exposed. She takes a deep breath to clear her mind and strikes up conversation. "What have you got planned today?"

Lincoln spreads the napkins out for them to eat on, and pulls bagels from the bag for each of them. "I am leading a group today," he says timidly, his worries about it still evident.

"You're a natural leader, you know that right?" Tris says with a no nonsense shake of her head.

Shrugging, Lincoln gives her a grunt. It's one thing he doesn't like to hear about all of the time. He'd been a leader in the Marine Corps, in Afghanistan, and he'd ended up without a leg. He was past the stage of self-blame, and he didn't hold any anger towards the situation anymore. But when people talked about his leadership, he hated the way it undermined the guys below him. Those guys, his buddies, his Marines, stepped up when they needed to and saved his life. Risked theirs, got injured themselves. They didn't need any leadership to tell them what to do then. And so even though Lincoln technically was their 'leader' he hated the way it made his friends sound – like they needed to be led.

"Ok, if you don't like that term, let me try again," Tris says when she realizes Lincoln isn't fond of her words. "You naturally earn the respect of those around you."

Tris observes him while he thinks about it, and then she continues talking to fill the silence. "So, are you and your friends staying through the weekend? Or is everyone heading home Friday?"

Pulled from his thoughts, Lincoln is grateful for the distraction. "Both. Some Friday, some Saturday, some Sunday. A couple of the guys wanted to use the weekend as a little extended vacation, some tourist time." He pauses before he adds, "I'm booked until Saturday morning."

"Are you going to play tour guide until you check out?" she asks with a teasing smile.

"Of course. I think I've been a damn good tour guide so far. You agreed with me on both dinner spots."

Tris laughs. "I did! Keep it up and no one will want to leave!"

"Yeah, sometimes I wish that were the case," he says softly. "But hey, we all have to get back to our own lives sometime."

Sighing, Tris tries to lightheartedly acknowledge what Lincoln just let slip. "I feel the same way about Christina and Will, you know? I wish we weren't so far apart. But we both have separate lives, you know?"

Dodging getting deeper into the topic, Lincoln switches direction. "How'd you meet them anyways? I don't think you've ever really told me."

"College," she says simply. "Will was stationed at Lejeune, Christina and I were in some classes together."

"Was it instant friendship?" he teases, referring to the closeness she shared with Christina and how evident it was to those that surrounded them.

Letting out a light laugh, she nods. "Pretty much. We were two girls in a new place and we just clicked, I guess. Her and Will were already married, so I was a little worried she was going to be this boring chick who was just following her husband around…but she's so much more than that. We both had big dreams and thought we'd accomplish them all without even a hiccup."

Will realizes that Tris hasn't shared with him where she's from or how she ended up in North Carolina, but he pushes it aside for another time. There's no reason to ask someone so many questions when he wasn't ready to answer the same amount. "And your dream was the store?" he asks, since it's a topic they've already discussed.

"No, not right away. I majored in business management but had no clue what I wanted to do. When I was a sophomore I was taking a basic art history class and we had to go listen to this panel on art therapy – it was mandatory. I took my books and my laptop so I could study while I was there – I wasn't expecting anything. The beginning was about art therapy and the brain and whatever, I was zoned out. Until a couple of guys started showing their work and talking about. I was hooked." Awkwardly, she pauses, and then stops, looking at Lincoln as if her story is done.

"And then what?"

"You'll think – I don't know," she stumbles. "I mean I guess the rest is history."

"No, it's not. I want to hear it."

She shakes her head and looks down at her empty napkin, wrapping it up to do something to bide the time.

"Tris…" he prods. "I'm not going to laugh at you or judge you. I just want to hear about it."

"They were veterans," she says quietly. "From Vietnam. And they talked about the way they had struggled after the war and how art saved them."

Lincoln reached across the table, slipping his fingers in-between hers. "Why the hell would I laugh at that?"

"I don't want you think I'm trying to save you."

"Pretty girl," he says with a slight flirtation in his tone. "I don't need any saving. Everything now is just a bonus round."

His comment draws a laugh out of her, as it usually does, but Lincoln only sees it as the truth. There was a good chance he wasn't going to make it past that day if Afghanistan, and he wasn't going to spend time being anything but negative about the present from here on out. Sure, he was cautious and he was nervous, but he was always, always grateful.

"So, tell me the rest of it," he says after he cleans the table to give her a moment and sits back down across from her.

Releasing a breath, she slowly continues. "They just talked about how art changed their lives, how it saved them. And I just wondered if it could do the same for… everyone."

"Is that when you decided to open your store?"

Tris laughs again. "No! I really was moved by hearing them, so I took a few extra art classes and psychology courses just because I was interested. But I've only had the store for a few years. I thought I'd be a big time corporate gal by now."

"Wearing pantsuits and pearls?" Lincoln asks, surprised to hear Tris describe a roll that seems so far from her personality.

"Yeah," she says, slightly rolling her eyes. "I wanted to be powerful and rich. I thought that that would make me... happy."

Lincoln can't help but noticed how she hesitates on her words, almost as if she stops saying what she really wants to say to replace it with something less deep, less revealing.

"How'd you end up in sales?"

She seems eager to turn the tables away from her, so Lincoln lets her. "I'm a likable guy." He can't help but throw in a shrug and smug smile.

"Seriously," she deadpans.

"Seriously. I looked for jobs that would allow me to still travel regularly and not keep me tied to a desk. I was at a job fair at Bethesda and I just happened to meet this guy, we started talking…and he told me he'd love to interview me."

"And he gave you a job?"

"Yep."

"Do you have a marketing degree? A business degree?" she asks, her mouth open in surprise.

"No," Lincoln says, unable to hold back his smile at Tris's surprise. "But losing a leg for your country pulls some weight."

Shocked, she shakes her head. "I wasn't implying anything. I'm not saying it's wrong or – "

Lincoln cuts her off and threads his fingers through hers again. "I was never a books guy, Tris. I did ok in high school, but I was never going to sit through college and study and take exams. And this guy heard I didn't have a degree and didn't flinch. Later he told me that I had great references, a likeable personality, and if I learned to adapt to life with one leg, that I could learn the skills of sales and marketing."

"That's really great he saw that, Linc. Cause it's all true."

Lincoln smiles, then glances at his watch. "I've gotta get ready for the first group soon," he says as he stands.

"I've got plans with Christina and Anna for lunch, but maybe I'll see you at dinner if I can make it?"

"Of course," he says as he walks her to the door and gives her a lingering kiss good-bye.


End file.
